


Picnic

by SailorChibi



Series: family verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Baby!Tony, Bathing, Bubbles - Freeform, Crying, Cuddling, Daddy!Sam, Daddy!Steve, Daddy!Wade, Diapers, Gen, Happy Ending, Infantilism, Little!Bucky - Freeform, Little!Tony, Little!Wanda, Natasha and Tony are bros, Pacifiers, Piggyback Rides, Playing, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Puppy eyes, Sandcastles, Sleepy Tony, Sleepy babies, Team Feels, Team as Family, Thumb-sucking, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is a baby, all the feels, alternate universe - littles are known, bottles, bucky is a teenager, but with no spoilers, daddy!Phil, daddy!vision, diaper changes, everyone else is a little older, fury's a secret softie, it's basically just happy mush, little!Clint, little!Scott, little!peter, naps, non sexual age play, non sexual infantilism, tony is uncertain that the team likes him, tony stark deserves everything good, very little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every once in a while, the whole team gets the chance to get together and just be themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in a world where littles are known, though it is not part of my other verse. Essentially, there are different ages for littles: baby (0-2), toddler (3-4), little kid (5-7ish), big kid (8-9), pre-teen(10-12), teen (12-15ish) - all of these are rough approximates. All are considered littles. Tony is a baby, Clint is a toddler, Scott and Peter are little kids, Wanda is a big kid, and Bucky is a teen. Though Loki and Thor never made it into the fic, I'd go ahead and headcanon Loki as a toddler or baby too.
> 
> It's post civil war; don't ask how everything was smoothed over (except for some lingering tension between Rhodey and Steve and Tony's general feelings) because I don't know or care.

It was just past 9am when Steve poked his head into the nursery. The room was quiet except for the breathing of his baby boy. He smiled to himself, pushing the door open and creeping across the floor to peek into the crib. Tony was sprawled on his belly, head turned towards Steve, mouth open. He was still sound asleep, which was a wonder considering how hard of a time he'd had settling down last night.

But then, that wasn't unprecedented: sometimes Tony had difficulty letting his little side go, even when he was in a safe place. And after the past few months, it was no wonder that relaxing and unwinding was practically foreign to him. That was why Steve - why all of them, because they all needed the break - had lobbied so hard to get this next week off, barring an unforeseen disasters that the X-Men and the Fantastic Four couldn't handle.

It was going to be a good week.

"Hey," he said softly, dropping a hand into the crib and petting Tony's hair. He'd helped Tony to shower last night, when Tony wasn't ready for a bath yet, and his freshly shampooed hair was like silk.

Tony stirred under the touch. Steve loved seeing him this way, how slowly he came awake, because he knew exactly how much trust that reaction took. He watched the hazy brown eyes flutter open and blink before focusing on Steve - right before they slipped shut again. Steve chuckled and put the side of the crib down, sliding his hands under Tony's armpits and lifting him up.

"Oh, I know. I know. You're a sleepy baby," he cooed when Tony whined, setting Tony on his hip and curling a protective arm around Tony's waist. He'd never get tired of the way Tony leaned into him, sweet and warm, smelling of baby shampoo and powder. He pressed a kiss to the side of Tony's head and, against all temptation to just stand there in the sunlight and rock Tony in his arms, turned towards the changing table.

"No," Tony mumbled, batting at Steve's hands when he was laid on the table. His movements were sluggish, like a newborn kitten, and completely adorable.

"Yes. You're all wet, sweetpea. You need a change," said Steve, pressing Tony back down with ease. "Listen, Daddy knows you're sleepy. But everyone is outside waiting for us. Don't you want to have breakfast out on the lawn? It's a beautiful day outside, and I think Bruce made pancakes."

He kept talking as he undid the tabs on Tony's diaper, balling up the soiled material and tossing it in the diaper bin, and cleaned Tony up. He wasn't lying about the breakfast, but he had an ulterior motive for the early morning wake-up call: he wanted to get Tony on a regular sleeping schedule this week. If he didn't wake Tony up now - and keep him awake - he knew from previous experience that the fussy baby would never go down for a nap later in the morning. 

That was easier said than done, though. Tony had apparently given up complaining about the diaper change in favor of letting his eyelids droop, chewing his lower lip. He did that a lot when he wanted his pacifier. Steve paused in the midst of rubbing in some diaper cream and pulled Tony's lower lip free, pushing in a pacifier before Tony could protest. Tony sucked the pacifier once, twice, and his eyelids closed all the way.

"Sorry, little guy. Not on my watch." Steve hurried to finish with the cream, wiped his hands off, and put a new diaper on. Tony whimpered as he was pulled into a sitting position, and leaned heavily against Steve as Steve manipulated him into a onesie. It had no legs and unsnapped at the crotch for the easy access to diaper changes, but Steve's favorite part by far was the hood and the black kitty ears attached to it. Tony looked way too cute when the hood was pulled up and curls of dark brown hair stuck out from under it.

He scooped Tony up in his arms and walked out of the nursery, heading down the hall and stairs and straight outside. It really was a gorgeous day; the sun was shining and it would be hot later, but right now it was warm and breezy. Steve blinked once, letting his eyes adjust to the brightness, and followed the sound of voices.

"Uncle Steve!" 

"Hey kiddo," Steve said, shifting Tony to one arm just in time to lean down and grab Clint. He hauled the laughing kid up and planted a messy, wet kiss on the side of Clint's face, just to hear him shriek with laughter. 

"Ew! Uncle Steve, gross!" Clint whined, swinging his legs. "Put me down!"

"Okay, okay." Steve set him down carefully on the grass, readjusting his grip on Tony as Scott charged up to them.

"Tag, you're it!" he bellowed in Clint's ear. Tony jumped as the two boys raced away, curling into Steve with a whimper. Steve patted his back comfortingly.

"Easy, baby, I'm right here," he murmured, walking towards the adults. Long before any of the Littles had gotten out of bed, Natasha, Bruce and Coulson had been out here setting things up. There was a chair for every adult, as well as a huge picnic blanket. Several picnic baskets of food ringed the blanket, and there was a massive toy box right behind Vision. It was the set-up for a perfect day, if he could succeed at getting Tony to play.

He sat down in one of the chairs, arranging Tony on his lap so that Tony could see the other Littles, and accepted the bottle that Coulson passed him with a grateful nod. Bucky was patiently letting Peter and Wanda climb all over him while Clint and Scott chased each other. After everything the team had been through, it was definitely a heartwarming sight.

He tried to give Tony the bottle, but Tony kept determinedly pulling his face away. Finally, Steve gave up and set the bottle down in favor of rubbing Tony's back. Tony was watching the others play, and the longing in his eyes was painful to see. Especially since Steve knew that Tony would never ask to join them.

That's when Natasha stood up and made her graceful way over to them. "Kotyonok," she said, her mouth twitching into a smile when she saw the hood. "Would you like to play with me?"

Tony looked up at her, then glanced over his shoulder at Steve.

"Go ahead. I'll be right here," Steve said, releasing his grip and helping Tony to stand. Though of course Tony could walk, he was always wobbly after a good night's sleep, and Steve kept a grip on his arms until he was sure Tony's legs wouldn't give out.

Natasha shot him an amused look and took Tony's hand, leading the baby a handful of steps away to the water's edge. She crouched down and put her hand in the water, and, a moment later, Tony copied her. His eyes grew wide with delight when a couple of waves washed up a little further, dampening the lower half of his arm.

Sensing someone standing over his shoulder, Steve glanced up. Rhodes was standing beside him, watching Tony intently. 

"How is he doing?" Rhodes asked, not looking at Steve.

"Better," Steve said after a few seconds of thought, wanting to be honest. Tony wasn't doing perfect, but then again none of them were. "He's doing better."

Rhodes nodded, folding his arms across his chest. Things were still tense between him and Steve sometimes. Steve suspected, though he had no proof, that not being a caretaker really bothered Rhodes. Of course, you didn't need to be a caretaker to care for a Little - but it was not an easy task even with the most even-tempered of Littles, and only caretakers got that sense of biological fulfillment. With Tony, who had the tendency to be trying 90% of the time, that was pretty much a necessity.

Right at that moment, Scott pushed Clint into the lake. The resulting splash soaked both Natasha and Tony. Tony immediately began to wail; he _hated_ getting his head wet, especially when he was unprepared. Clint started to cry too, flopping around in the water like a fish.

"Scott Lang!" Sam exclaimed. "What is the matter with you?"

Scott took one look at his daddy's face and burst into tears. Then Peter started to cry, and Wanda's - even though she was seven and therefore a big girl, according to her, and rarely cried - chin wobbled.

"Wow, okay," Steve said, jumping to his feet. He hurried over to Tony, who was wailing at full volume and holding his arms out. "Come 'ere, you're okay," he soothed, picking Tony up and cuddling him close. "That was scary, but Clint and Scott didn't mean it. They were just playing. Shh, honey. Don't cry." He rocked Tony back and forth and looked up to check on the others.

Coulson was kneeling on the grass with Natasha; both of them were trying to calm Clint down, who was probably crying as much from the surprise of the dunking as because Tony was crying. Sam had taken Scott aside and was alternately comforting and scolding him. Wade was holding Peter, who had already stopped crying, and Wanda was curled up beside Vision. Only Bucky stood alone, hands shoved in his pockets, looking uncomfortable.

Steve moved over to him. "It's okay," he said over the sound of Tony's sobs. "It's not your fault, Buck."

Bucky's shoulders hunched slightly. "I know that," he said crossly, but the miserable expression on his face suggested otherwise. 

"They're Littles. It happens," Steve said. If he thought Bucky would tolerate it, he would've wrapped an arm around Bucky's shoulders. But Bucky could be funny about things like that. He'd always been prickly about affection, insisting that just because he tipped the Little scale as a teen didn't mean he needed to be treated like a child. That had been the cause for more than one fight over the years, because Steve _needed_ to care. It was why he clicked so well with Tony.

Hydra's influence and actions had only made it worse, though. Now, sometimes Bucky was okay with a hug or a cuddle, but at other times he reacted like it was physically hurting him in some way. Worse yet, it was often impossible to tell just which mood he was in. This time, Steve figured it was better to err on the side of caution.

"Tony's all wet. I need to get him dried off. Do you think you could warm his bottle up for me? He hasn't eaten since last night."

Bucky looked up at him through his eyelashes. "Sure."

"Thanks," Steve said, trying not to make a big deal of it. Tony had stopped sobbing, but his eyes were still full of tears and he was shivering a little. Steve carried him back to the blanket and set him down behind Wanda and Vision, regretfully removing the cute onesie and wrapping him up in a towel.

"Don't cry, baby boy, you're okay. You here with me?" He touched his forehead to Tony's, waiting until Tony's brown eyes had focused on him to smile. "Hey there. You okay?"

Tony sniffed, lifting his arms up for a hug, which Steve granted. He squeezed Tony tightly and briskly rubbed his hands over the towel to help dry Tony off. 

"Gonna get you all nice and dry and changed," he said. "Then you can have a bottle. I know you're hungry, even if you won't admit it." He tapped Tony on the nose, holding back a laugh when Tony's eyes crossed in an effort to track the motion of his finger.

"Not," Tony whispered.

"Not what?"

"Not hungry."

"Uh-huh. Afraid I don't believe you, darlin'," Steve said, letting a hint of his Brooklyn accent seep into his voice, just to earn Tony's smile. It worked, and it felt like a damn precious victory.

He set Tony down on the blanket and made quick work of changing Tony's diaper, setting aside the soaked one to be tossed out later. Then, looking down at his beautiful baby boy, he couldn't resist: he bent down and blew a noisy raspberry against Tony's tummy. Tony _squealed_ , the sound surprisingly loud and full of joy, and Steve couldn't help laughing.

"There's my baby boy," he said, sitting back. He hadn't thought to grab a change of clothing, but Bucky turned out to be one step ahead of him: he silently handed Steve another onesie, this one a simple red with pictures of cars on it. Steve shot him a grateful smile and helped Tony into the new onesie.

Then Bucky passed over the bottle, and Steve settled down on the blanket with Tony on his lap, supporting Tony's upper body with his arm. He offered Tony the nipple of the bottle again and this time Tony latched on, drinking the rich milk. Bucky sat down beside them, pulling his knees up against his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. He didn't quite lean against Steve, but there was less than an inch of space between them. Steve very carefully didn't move, just enjoyed the moment of having both his boys beside him.

"He's awful little," Bucky said after a couple minutes, looking down at Tony. 

"Yeah, he is," Steve said, shifting Tony's weight so that he could swipe at a dribble of milk on Tony's chin. "But that's why I'm here. I like taking care of him."

A shadow of a smile passed over Bucky's face. "Good. You used to drive me nuts."

"I wasn't that bad."

"Yes you were. Always knew you needed someone littler than me. You were just too stubborn to get that through your thick head."

Steve huffed. "Was not," he muttered, setting the mostly empty bottle down. He lifted Tony against his shoulder and carefully patted the baby's back until Tony burped.

"Uncle Steve?" Scott stood in front of them, wringing his hands together. "Daddy says I'm s'posed to apologize for upsetting Tony."

"It's okay, Scott," said Steve, wiping Tony's face again. "You and Clint were just playing. You didn't mean to. Tony understands that. He just doesn't like getting wet when he doesn't know it's gonna happen."

Scott nodded, scuffing a foot against the ground. "Can Tony come play with us?"

Tony's eyes widened. 

"Sure. If he wants to." Steve glanced down at Tony. He could see Tony's reaction, surprise and trepidation, written across his face. Tony was still so gun-shy around the rest of the team, though he was slowly getting better. They were all slowly getting better. It was just taking time.

"You wanna go play, baby?" he asked gently.

Tony nodded hesitantly. Scott held a hand out to Tony, who took it, and helped pull Tony to his feet. "Come on. Uncle Phil said he was gonna bring out the bubbles," Scott said, eyes shining with excitement.

Bubbles? Steve raised a curious eyebrow, watching as Clint walked over and took Tony's other hand. Tony toddled back down to the edge of the water between the two of them. Phil was already standing there, holding what looked like a water pistol in his hands. Once Wanda and Peter joined them, he lifted the pistol and squeezed the trigger. Bubbles exploded out of the tip.

At the same time, Bruce hit the switch on half a dozen bubble machines. Within minutes, the air was filled with bubbles and the sound of laughing, shrieking Littles. Steve couldn't help grinning as he watched them run around, trying to catch the bubbles. Tony was a little slower, a little more uncertain, right up until a bubble floated by his face and popped on the tip of his nose. Then he started getting into the game, giggling every time he caught a bubble between his hands.

Then Rhodes and Sam joined them, chasing the Littles around, and there was even more screaming. Steve just sat back and accepted a cold drink from Vision. His heart swelled when Tony ran to Bucky for protection, even going so far as to shyly lift his arms. Bucky looked truly shocked for a good ten seconds before he responded, tentatively kneeling down and allowing Tony to awkwardly clamber onto his back. He stood up, hands gripping Tony's thighs to keep him secure, as Phil approached them.

"Thought you could hide, huh?" Phil said, brandishing his gun. "No one gets away that easy!"

"No, Uncle Phil!" Tony squealed, kicking his legs. 

"Yes!" Phil let out a truly maniacal laugh as he sprayed bubbles at them. Bucky got the brunt of it, and even Natasha laughed that time.

When the group grew tired of playing with bubbles, Wade produced buckets, shovels, and a variety of seashells out of virtually nowhere and led some very happy Littles down past the grass to the little patch of sand. Bucky, Steve was pleased to note, sat down with Tony and seemed to be content helping Tony to build a truly elaborate sand castle. Wanda was blatantly cheating by using her powers, and so was Peter - though Peter was having less luck, as the sand wouldn't stick to his webbing. Clint and Scott kept knocking down each other's sand castle whenever the other turned their back, prompting a giggle fest over how "awesome" the ruined castles looked.

A couple of hours later, Natasha nudged Steve in the side and nodded towards the cabin. Fury was coming across the lawn towards them, Phil in tow. They were both carrying picnic baskets. Sometimes it was still a little hard for Steve to wrap his head around the badass Director of SHIELD, joining them all for a picnic, and judging from the smile on Natasha's face, she felt the same way.

"Food!" Clint screamed, spotting picnic baskets, and dropped his shovel.

"I'm hungry," Wanda announced, standing up.

Bucky plucked Tony off the sand and followed the rest of the Littles, ultimately dropping a tired, sandy baby in Steve's lap before plopping down on the blanket himself. For the first time a long time, he looked both tired and content.

"Wipe your hands before you eat," Steve said to him.

"I'm not a baby," Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't say you were." Steve got to his feet and hoisted his actual baby into his arms. He didn't need to check Tony's diaper; the smell was telling him all too well that Tony needed to be changed, and this wouldn't be the kind of quick, two-second change they could hide behind someone on the blanket.

He carried Tony back into the house and into the nursery. Between his sleep deficit and the morning spent playing, Tony was sleepy; sometimes he fussed during the messier diaper changes, but today he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Excellent. It was a little late for Tony’s morning nap and early for his afternoon nap, but if Steve could get some food into him before he fell asleep he’d count himself lucky. 

“Gonna have some lunch with us, sweetheart?” he asked, brushing a dark curl off of Tony’s forehead. His hair was getting long because of how busy they’d been. He needed a haircut. Right now, though, Steve liked how babyish it made him look.

“No,” Tony mumbled. It was his favorite word.

Steve smiled. “You telling me that little tummy’s not hungry?” He scooped Tony up, cuddling him close as they walked back outside to where the rest of the team had, evidently, decided not to wait for them. Steve’s own stomach growled at the sight of the sandwiches being passed around, and he felt more than a heard an answering rumble from Tony’s tummy. 

“Hey Tones,” Rhodes said, something much kinder in his face when he looked at Tony. “Saved you your favorite. Peanut butter and nutella.”

“’Tella?” Tony said, blinking slowly, and made grabby hands at the sandwich.

“Hey, wait until we’re seated,” Steve said, sinking down onto the blanket with Tony on his lap. Normally he wouldn’t have sat nearly this close to Rhodes, but the appreciative hum Tony made when Rhodes popped a bite of the sandwich into his mouth was worth the dark look he got whenever Rhodes glanced at him.

While Rhodes fed Tony, Steve put away a half dozen sandwiches of his own – ham and cheese, not the disgusting combination that Tony favored. It was a simple, but delicious, meal, made all the better because of their location. He idly rubbed Tony’s belly in between bites, enjoying the feel of the sun. It was nice not having to put on sunscreen, knowing that the serum would take care of any sunburn practically before Steve had to worry about it. And Tony, with his heritage, never burned, only tanned.

Scott had made quick work of his own two sandwiches. Now, he turned a positively plaintive look on Sam. “Daddy, cookie?”

Sam looked around at the food strewn across the blanket, then rummaged through a couple of the picnic basket. Scott, Clint and Peter watched him avidly, and more than one face fell when Sam scratched his head and said, “That’s funny. No cookies to be found.”

“No cookie?” Peter said, sounding perilously close to tears. “Wanda, no cookies!”

Wanda frowned, an expression Steve was becoming familiar with that meant the start of a tantrum. “But… we _always_ have cookies,” she said, as though she could will cookies into existence just by virtue of that alone.

“I could make a trip to the store,” said Bruce.

Tony turned his head away from the crust Rhodes was offering him and squirmed until he was free of Steve’s lap. He crawled across the blanket, oblivious to the way that Natasha and Vision hurriedly cleared a path for him, and stopped in front of Fury. Fury looked down with a blank expression, though Steve thought he detected a glint of amusement.

“Yes?”

“Cookie?” Tony asked, looking up at Fury through his eyelashes. He looked so sweet and small that Steve wanted to run out and buy a cookie factory for him.

“What makes you think I have any?” Fury said.

Tony reached out, fingers wrapping around Fury’s pant leg. He tugged very gently and said, “Grampa, cookie?”

Steve had to cover his mouth to hold back his laugh at the expression on Fury’s face, and he wasn’t the only one. Only Vision and Phil were able to maintain straight faces; Clint’s shoulders started to shake and he quickly turned, pressing his face to Phil’s side so that his laughter wouldn’t be heard. Even Natasha was grinning, her eyes alight with amusement.

“Grampa?” Tony said again, soft and beseeching.

Fury stared down at Tony for at least thirty seconds. It was impossible to tell what was going through his mind now that he’d recovered from the initial surprise; he was too good at putting on a mask. Tony stared back, hopefully at first and then, when Fury still failed to react, visibly wilted, shoulders hunching like he thought Fury might lash out. He slowly released Fury’s pants and started to pull his hand back.

“Yes,” Fury said.

Tony froze, watching in clear disbelief as Fury put a hand into the picnic basket beside him – the only one Sam hadn’t checked – and pulled out a jumbo box of cookies. His eyes flicked to Fury to the cookies and back again. Steve held his breath.

“Cookie?” Tony asked for a third time.

Fury opened up the box and held out two chocolate cookies. Steve wasn’t thrilled about Tony eating more chocolate on top of the nutella sandwich, but the way Tony’s face lit up was too adorable to resist. He took the cookies like they were something precious, holding one in each hand. His eyes shone.

“Thanks, Grampa.”

That seemed to be the sign. Wanda, Peter, Scott and Clint rushed forward, all clamoring for a cookie of their own. Fury set the box down as Tony shuffled back to Steve, holding his cookies aloft like prizes won. Steve finally let himself laugh and held his arms out, lifting Tony back into his lap once the baby was close enough.

“Cookie, Daddy,” Tony said proudly.

“I see that. Good job, baby boy,” Steve said.

“Cookie,” Tony said, and held out a cookie to Bucky, who had been hovering just behind Steve while Tony used the powers of his big brown eyes on Fury.

Bucky blinked, looking like he wanted nothing more than to look over his shoulder and see if there was someone standing behind him. Dignity, no doubt, kept him from doing so. Instead, he frowned at Tony.

“Cookie,” Tony repeated, an edge of impatience seeping into his voice; he was tired and cranky, and if Bucky didn’t get with the program they were going to shortly have a very fussy baby on their hands. Steve elbowed him.

“Um. Thanks.” Bucky took the cookie gingerly, like he half-expected it to explode, and Tony smiled with satisfaction as he promptly went completely lax, relying solely on Steve’s arms to hold him up. He brought his prize to his mouth and started nibbling at the edge of the cookie, half-lidded eyes watching the rest of the team swiftly demolish the box of cookies.

“Eat your cookie, Buck,” Steve said gently, and for once Bucky obeyed without complaint. Steve hugged Tony tightly, his throat swelling with emotion. Goddamn he was one lucky guy.

Unsurprisingly, Tony only made it through half his cookie before he fell asleep, still clutching the mushy remains in one little fist. Steve shifted him into a slightly more comfortable position and fished a pacifier out of his pocket, substituting it for Tony’s chocolatey fingers. He hadn’t gotten any cookies, but he didn’t care. What he had right now, Tony in his arms and Bucky sitting beside him, was worth way more.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
